From the Backseat
by ReiHowaitorozu
Summary: Kadence Lockwood and her two sisters, Nikkole and Kristen, are thrust abruptly into Sam and Dean Winchester's lives when their hunter parents are murdered by Azazel. When Kadence learns that her Godfather, John Winchester, is hunting the demon the killed her parents she wants in, and her and her sisters will use any means for their revenge. Eventual Sam x OC, Dean x OC, Cas x OC.
1. Yellow-Eyed Nightmares

Something was wrong. Very wrong. I didn't know what, but all I knew was that I needed to get home, immediately. It might have had something to do with what most people called "fate", but screw fate, I would try all I could to change this one. My light hazel eyes flicked up to the slowly ticking clock on the wall, each tick of the hands echoing loudly in my ears.

"Do you know why you're in here, Kadence Lockwood?" The principal's nasal voice asked, bringing me back to reality.

"Yes Sir." I replied with an impish smirk.

"Junie here was bullying Andy because she's pregnant. So, I stepped in." I said unashamed, even though I was in huge trouble for beating the preppy girl black and blue.

I brushed a thick strand of pink streaked, blonde hair behind my shoulder; revealing one of my multiply pierced ears and shot him another smirk that flashed light on my sliver lip piercings. I looked like a hardcore punk with just the facial jewelry and streaked hair alone, so my wardrobe was set to match. Tight, dark pants with studded belts, a tight, neon-blue V-neck tee shirt, black ankle boots, and a black zip up hoodie. My parents were very lenient with my two sisters and I by letting us express ourselves with hair dye and faces full of metal, even if we got written up for it daily.

And what came with the style arose mistrust, discrimination, and plenty of people to punch in the mouth, which brought on a lot of trouble for my parents, who were on the school board, and quite a lot of detentions for me. The bullied students looked up to me because I stood up for them, but that didn't mean they liked me, although I always stepped in for them, not backing down, even if I was broken and bleeding. My sisters and I were taught to fight until it was over - in a physical fight or a verbal one - by our parents. Adults despised us, and kids worshiped us, feared us, or hated our guts.

"I was not!" The bitch in question interjected furiously.

"Hmm, then why did I have to yank you off of her and punch you in the face?" I taunted mercilessly. I was already in super deep, so I thought that I might as well dig a bit deeper.

"See Sir! She admits to punching me!" Junie stood up and shouted.

"I have the footage..." The principal drawled in his nasal voice. "I know _everything _that happened."

His insinuation was clear; he saw everything that Junie did to that girl, then what I did afterward. An audible gulping sound came from my throat when I realized he had that on tape. I was gonna have the graveyard shift when I got home. Literally. Then the principal sighed.

"Kadence, just help a teacher clean up tomorrow after school." He told me. "You can go now."

My eyes widened in shock and I stared at the balding man in front of me. Normally I would get so much detention for this - or even ISS/ALC - but I guess the old guy was sick of giving me the same punishments over and over. That or he was sick of my parents complaining about their "rambunctious" girls getting into trouble at school so much.

After a few moments of shocked silence on my part - and unintelligible screeching on Junie's - I jumped from my seat and smirked at the Prep then the principal and ran out of the office, ignoring his "no running" warning. I ran all through the halls, wanting to get as far away from the office as I could just in case the principal changed his mind, and as soon as I burst out the main entrance I was ambushed by my two sisters, Nikkole and Kristen.

"Heeeeeey...!" Nikki sneered playfully and punched my shoulder.

"Hey jerks!" I sang and slung my arm around Kristin's shoulders, putting her in a headlock.

We roughhoused for a few minutes, probably looking like three punk kids beating on each other to others, but we were actually "as thick as thieves" as our mother liked to say. Our mother couldn't have children, so they went to an orphanage looking for a little girl, and left with three, three little girls all around the same age. Apparently, our parents were going to choose one of us, but I - the oldest – wouldn't let the three of us be separated, so our parents just took us in. We never asked who they were going to pick, because it wasn't important.

Nikk was the tallest out of the three of us and had a body like a Victoria's Secret model. Her skin was practically perfect - save a few scars on her legs and back - with an almost caramel color and her long hair was dyed an extremely deep red, the bangs cut bluntly above her eyes. The only piercing she had was a small, thin, sterling silver ring on the right side of her nose.

Kris was almost the complete opposite of her, super short with almost buzzed blue hair, and more piercings on her eyebrows and ears than I cared to count. She might seem frail just to look at her, but I've seen her punch a werewolf straight in the mouth, taking a few teeth with her.

We were Hunters, people who hunted monsters and supernatural creatures of the dark. Although we girls were just amateurs, our parents were professionals. They never showed any fear, or hesitation. I'd never even see them cry. We were a mixed up family, but in a good way. They raised us as their parents raised them, Hunters. Though some of their friends seemed to think that they should have let us be "normal" whatever that actually was.

"Can we get outta here? I've been nervous all day..." Kris said in her quiet voice.

Nikki's happy smile faded as she studied us. "You too...?" She asked in an almost worried tone, a voice my confidant sister hardly used. We were taught to trust these feelings whenever we got them, because with the way we lived we could never be too careful. We were killing machines, which was definitely not normal for kids our age, but we enjoyed it. Well, as much as you can enjoy killing monsters. At least we were in a stable home; most Hunters never stay in one place.

We made our home in Lawrence, Kansas, the same place our Godfather - John Winchester - lived before his wife was killed by some sort of bastard monster. I remembered him leaving his two sons with us sometimes while he investigated some things with our parents. Dean, the oldest, would tease us mercilessly, while Sam would sit and watch a cartoon with us or read us books.

My head bobbed in agreement and I began to walk in the direction of our house, pulling my two sisters with me. The house wasn't but a few minutes walking distance from the school, so we got there quickly and were surprised to see an old truck and an oddly familiar black 67' Chevy Impala. I quickly raced inside, leaving my sisters behind, and ran into the living room, hitting a tall figure wearing an old leather jacket.

"Dangit!" I shouted. "Get outta the way! Where's my Mom and Dad?"

The tall figure quickly moved out of the way, and I stepped into the room, flinging myself at my parents as soon as I caught sight of them.

"Oh, thank God!" I exclaimed. "I thought something terrible had happened..."

My mother only laughed at me and pulled me closer to her as my sisters ran in and grabbed our father. "Don't you worry Kate, what could happen to your father and I?" She joked.

"A demon." I said in a lifeless tone, giving her a very damning look. "A demon could happen to you mom." No one could know that I was being completely serious at the moment.

Then I heard a loud cough behind me and my sisters and I turned to see two men. One was tall, extremely handsome man with dirty blond hair and startlingly green eyes. The other was also tall, but much older looking and had a rough air about him. He had dark brown locks, scratchy looking facial hair, and the same green eyes as the younger man.

"Who are these lovely ladies?" The younger one inquired with a smirk. "The last time I was here I could have sworn you only had little brats running around Dakota."

I gave him a confused look, most people knew my mom by "Mrs. Lockwood", not Dakota. The only people that did were, "Hunters..." I breathed as my mom and dad laughed.

"Well children tend to grow, Dean." My mother replied with a wry smile and a gleam in her eyes.

"_Dean!? Dean Winchester!?" _My mind screamed. That meant that the other man was John Winchester. I was surprised, they had not been to see us since the boys were teenagers and we were kids. My eyes flashed around the room, scanning it to see if Sam was there, but to my disappointment he was not. When I was younger I had a small infatuation with the youngest Winchester, and honestly I still had one of the memory of him. He was much kinder than his older brother and my prickly Godfather and was always ready to give my sisters and I his full attention.

Before I could stop myself I asked, "Where's Sam...?" Then bushed scarlet.

Dean's smile wavered for a fraction of a second, I had hardly noticed it, and John became even _surlier_ than before. I instantly regretted my words as I noticed that I had touched a sore spot with the Winchester men. Even though you could taste the tension in the room Dean decided to answer my question.

"Sammy decided to go to college. Stanford, so he won't be joining us on this little trip." His voice was slightly less jovial, I detected.

"He doesn't know that you're even here, does he?" I asked, hoping that was the answer. Embarrassingly, I would have been slightly hurt if that wasn't the case.

"Yeah," Dean answered in a slightly downhearted tone. "But that means I get you three lovely young women to myself." His face brightened up into that slightly flirtatious and teasing grin of his that I always wanted to slap off of his face, but today it made me smile.

My eyes flicked in the direction of my sisters, and I caught sight of Nikk's slightly blushing face as Kris discreetly elbowed her in the side, causing my smile to widen into a full-blown grin. Then John spoke up.

"Dean, how 'bout you go take the girls to do something for a few hours." The way he said it sounded more like a command from a superior officer than a suggestion from a father to a son. "I have a few things that I need to discuss with Dakota and Ross."

Dean looked like he was about to protest but thought better of it. My lips pressed into a thin line as I studied him again. I recognized that look. I had used it frequently; it was a look of wanting to be seen as an adult, as an equal. Seeing as he was twenty-six, if my calculations were correct, his feelings were justified. I wanted to stay behind and hear what they needed to talk about. Had John gotten a lead on the monster that killed Mary? Sam had said once that he never stopped looking for it, and I instantly knew that I didn't want him here, particularly because something bad was going to happen if he was. But before I could put out a word of protest my father agreed with Uncle John.

"The girls haven't been able to have any fun lately. It'd be good for 'em to get out for a bit." His eyes trained on me and I kept my face blank, staring forward. He knew me all too well. My father's words were a warning to stay out of it and leave it to the professionals. I grimaced and pulled away from my mother's arms and the girls followed, taking my cue.

"C'mon Dean," I said, bumping him with my shoulder as I started to walk past him. "We're not babies anymore; you could take us pretty much anywhere."

I heard him sigh and say a quick goodbye to my parents, and then he pushed past me.

"Okay, but anything happens to my Baby and you're paying for it with your life." He growled, and I was ninety-five percent sure that he was not joking. I wouldn't even dream of putting a scratch or a dent in that beautiful machine, but Dean conveniently forgot that I was a car nut.

"Okay old man, we won't hurt your precious hunk of metal." Nikk said with a smirk and walked out the door with Kris grinning as she followed.

Dean's face darkened and he followed my two sisters saying something about "Baby having feelings" or some such nonsense. A sigh escaped me as I gripped the door. I didn't want to leave; I wanted to stay with my parents. Flashbacks of my recent nightmares had been haunting me all day, leaving a sinking feeling in my stomach. I had a reason to trust my dreams; they had normally been true before.

My mother had told me that dreams were a gift from God and his angels, that we should trust them. Unless they were Kristen's dreams, hers were wacked up and crazy. Like unicycling panda bear crazy. I don't believe I'm a psychic, but whenever something big - good or bad - is about to happen I have dreams about it a few days before, but that's where it ended. This dream however, I didn't want to believe. It was too horrible to really be true so I kept it to myself, hoping and praying that it would go away and everything would be okay.

I gave the door a tug and it opened, sending a rush of cool September air into my face - clearing my mind.

"Oh hey," I called out before rushing out the door. "I got called into the principal's office for fighting again!" Then, hearing my father's angry shout, I ran as fast as I could, slamming the door behind me, and jumped into the already running Impala's window.

"What the Hell, Kate!?" Dean practically screamed at me.

"It's a good thing the windows were rolled down." I replied with a face full of leather.

"If you did anything to my car, I swear to God I will kill you." He threatened.

"Oooh, scary Dean. Let's just go get something to eat okay? I'm starving." The only damage that even remotely happened was to my face. I was sure to have a slight bruise on my cheekbone tomorrow. Dean grumpily nodded his assent and pulled away from the curb, old school Metallica blaring from the radio.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure?" Ross Lockwood asked the man across from him and his wife.<p>

"I've never been more sure in my life." John answered. "You've noticed the electrical storms and the strange cattle deaths, don't even deny you haven't been the least bit anxious about it."

"John, you've known me since we were kids. You know how much I've wanted to investigate this. I just can't, my girls will be put in too much danger." Ross said with a sigh. "It was selfish of us to even adopt them with the way we live. But we did and we need to give them as much of a normal upbringing as possible..."

"John, we trust you with our lives... But the girls are just too inexperienced to deal with this level of a demon." Dakota cut in, seeing John was about to protest. "I couldn't bear it if something happened to them if we helped you with this."

Worry lines marked her otherwise flawless face as she gazed at her longtime friend and godfather of her children, then at her husband of twenty-five years. She knew Ross wasn't the type to refuse their old friend anything, and she knew that eventually he would give in, despite his protests for their daughter's safety. And that she would stand by his decision, because they wanted this bastard dead as much as John did. And that scared her.

* * *

><p>"So, fighting in school?" Dean questioned with a smirk after we finished our meal and headed out to the Impala.<p>

I gave him a look of annoyance and a rude gesture with my middle finger, and then tried to get out of step with him. I hated it when people would ask about that, because I really didn't know how to give them a straight answer. The kids I defended hardly ever stuck up for me, and someone was ready to tattle on me for protecting them. I guess I felt like it was my duty to protect the weaker kids from the ones they couldn't defend themselves from, like saving people from monsters. If I didn't save them who would, even if they didn't thank me.

Dean seemed to have seen my pained look and awkwardly patted my shoulder.

"It'll get better kid." He said, trying to comfort me.

"_You of all people should know better Dean." _I though angrily, knowing that I'd have to keep fighting for the rest of my life, or until some monster decided to get an early taste of Kate Lockwood. Before I could respond Nikk sauntered up to Dean's side - probably sensing that I didn't want to talk to him anymore - and started up a conversation with him, turning on the charm heavily. I tried not to smirk, but it was impossible. The three of us were practically jail bait and Dean seemed totally unaware or uncaring about that. His attention was fully on my sister.

As Kris slipped into the back seat of the Impala, she winked at me with a grin. Nikki had a huge crush on Dean and Kris knew that she would be elated at his attention. I slipped into the back seat beside Kris to give Nikk some more time with Dean.

"Hey, so what do you guys wanna go do now? Shopping... Bowling?" Dean asked, but he didn't seem too keen on either of his suggestions.

"We could just drive around." Nikki proposed halfheartedly as she absentmindedly wrapped a strand of hair around her finger.

"Or we could go home." I moaned.

That's all I had wanted to do all day, go home. See my mom and dad. Pretend that my nightmare didn't exist. Not hang around with a seasoned hunter that flirts with anything in a short skirt, no matter how much I missed him.

"We could do that, or we could go somewhere and talk for a while." Nikki said, emphasizing her words slightly.

Our parents were probably not finished speaking yet, is what she meant. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

"Sure, whatever," I growled. "But I get to pick the spot."

"Sounds good to me," Dean agreed, sending me a smile through the rear view mirror. "Where to?"

A smirk flickered across my face for a fraction of a second before I answered with my favorite place in town.

"The cemetery."

Dean's smile didn't waver even in the slightest. In fact he actually laughed.

"I shoulda known," He chuckled. "You always were a creepy kid." Then he veered toward the cemetery.

* * *

><p>"So what's with all the... Hair dye and metal?" Dean questioned as the girls and I perched ourselves on old gravestones.<p>

This was my favorite part of the graveyard, old and misty. Just the kind of spot that kept normal people away. I wasn't too happy to share it with Dean, but this situation called for a grin and bear it attitude.

"I like to look scarier than the things I fight every day." I told him bluntly. "Besides, I look hot."

"I just like looking like this..." Kris whispered as she held her phone in the air, probably trying for a signal.

"I'm no metal-head." Nikk grinned and winked at me. "But our piercings are made of sliver and some have iron decorations on them." She explained.

Silver and iron were two metals that were dangerous for certain creatures that we had to kill, so it was just more protection for us. Dean nodded and grinned at our diverse reactions. I couldn't help but wonder why he was smiling so much, had his life not sucked the happy out of him yet? It was staring on me already, and we were one of the more grounded hunter families. It wasn't any of my business though, so I didn't ask. I knew better than to pry into another hunter's life. Instead I asked,

"So, why did Sam decide to go to college?"

This was still personal and still a touchy subject - even without Uncle John - because Dean became cranky immediately.

"Sammy wanted more than he had with us. Even though once you have this life you can really never get out of it." He growled softly.

A small pang went through my heart at his words. He was right of course, once you're in the hunting life you can never really leave it completely behind. After that we had smatterings of awkward conversation, when one of us got tired of the uncomfortable silence, but mostly we just bore with it and avoided eye contact. Eventually, I slipped my headphones from around my neck and placed them over my ears, turning on whatever I could, blaring it as loud as it could go. I prayed that the time would go quickly so I could just go home.

* * *

><p>John and Dean had stayed to supper, to Nikk's delight and my immense displeasure, not at Dean, but my Godfather who so sweetly kicked me out of my own house. My mother even invited them to stay at our house instead of a crappy motel, and they accepted. She was apparently oblivious to my displeasure and terror with her ideas. As I was made to clean up, I grumbled about having to share a bed with Kris - so John would have a bed - and wash extra since we had company. My attitude wasn't really at my parents; I just had a horrible feeling of dread in my stomach because this was turning out just like my nightmare.<p>

Every time I had tried to bring it up, I was silenced by one of the older folk with their reminiscing and old hunting stories. I felt like puking, but there was never time to tell them, after all, some of my dreams never turned out to be truly right. By the time I had finished cleaning the kitchen and the dining room my parents were in their room with the door closed. I sighed and shot them a quick text, then trudged up the stairs to my room.

A few hours later I was lying in my bed with Kristen next to me, and they still hadn't answered my text or called me downstairs. John would never listen to me about my dreams when I was a kid, he definitely wouldn't now. I had thought about telling the girls, but decided better of it. It would only scare them. I laid there a few more minutes, listening to Kris snore with a plan forming in my mind. Dean might listen to me and decide whether or not we should be worried.

Swiftly, I grabbed a large jacket and zipped it up over my pajamas, then quietly walked out of my room and down the stairs to the living room. Sweat began pouring down my face like bullets as an uncomfortable wave of déjà vu crashed over me. I heard voices coming from my parent's room, hushed voices. Quickly - but quietly - I rushed over to Dean's place on the couch, and shook him awake. He almost cursed at me but I shoved my hand over his mouth before he could get a word out, then pressed a finger to my lips and removed my hand to point at my parent's room.

"There's someone in there with them..." I whispered fearfully.

Dean nodded and grabbed his pistol off the coffee table. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt before he could go toward the room, begging him to let me explain, but a loud shout sent us both bursting into the room. Pounding footsteps from above alerted me to John and my sisters waking up. My eyes flashed around the room, catching on a man on the far side. I couldn't see his face, but his eyes flashed a bright, ugly yellow.

The next few seconds seemed like an eternity. As I searched the room a scream stuck in my throat, because I couldn't find my parents. I looked wildly around then slowly up to the ceiling, where a soft dripping sound came from. My knees buckled underneath me as a loud shrieking sob ripped itself from my lungs. They were stuck to the ceiling; my parents were stuck to the ceiling and covered in blood. John barreled into the room, shouting things that I could not hear over the sound of my screams. Suddenly I felt arms around me, pulling me from the room.

Then, as if the situation could not get any worse, the room exploded into _flames_. My beloved parents were _burning _on the ceiling, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I couldn't tear my eyes away, no matter how badly I wanted to. John was screaming from the other side of the room where Mr. Yellow-Eyes used to be - somehow he had disappeared while I was shrieking - and my sisters were crying and trying to put out the fire. The arms were still trying to pull me from the room - I had later realized that it was Dean - but I kept fighting. I wanted my mom and dad, they _couldn't_ be dying.

Eventually, Dean decided not to be gentle anymore and roughly picked me up, running me out of the room. As Dean dragged me out the front door John snapped out of his cursing and grabbed Nikki and Kris then pulled them from the room right before the bedroom ceiling collapsed in. A bloodcurdling scream tore my throat to shreds as I watched it fall. I fought Dean as hard as I could, but there was no point, he wasn't going to let me back into that house. The smell of burnt flesh and smoke finally assailed my nose, and then the world went dark.


	2. Is There Life After Depression?

It is almost funny how people, who hardly talk to you, can act like your best friend when someone dies. I would have laughed at the girls fawning over my sisters and me as we entertained them to be polite. I mean, if I could have laughed. I hadn't laughed in days, or even cracked a real smile. Since the only rooms that had been badly ruined from the fire were my parent's room, the downstairs and upstairs hall, and an upstairs bathroom and closet, the rest of the house was relatively fine for living and, regrettably, having "comforting" people over. The firefighters had gotten here in time to put out most of the fire. The only other issue was that the house just smelled badly of smoke and death.

It seemed that these girls were a bit more interested in watching my God-brother, Dean, fix parts of the house then they were making us feel better. As I checked the time on my cellphone, I decided that it was time for them to leave and go gossip about how sexy Dean was, or how awful my sisters and I looked. Not that I cared, they could talk all they wanted, and it was true. My skin had paled at least three shades and my hair was dull and unbrushed, out of its normal Legolas-esque style. I had been wearing the same clothes for days, even though Dean and John had made sure the upstairs was safe.

I had also noticed that I was getting unhealthily thin, even after only a few weeks. I refused to eat the homemade casseroles that were piling up in the fridge, no matter how much Dean cajoled or threatened me to eat. It was just as much a grief thing as it was not wanting to eat something from people who wanted to ease their conscience or pretended to care. Besides, most of them were disgusting, even Kris and Nikki refused to eat some of them and they ate almost anything. After some time Uncle John made Dean stop bugging me about eating saying, "She'll get something if she wants it, leave the kid alone."

Even though Dean was being a little annoying with his babying, I still appreciated that someone still was trying to take care of me. That someone would ask how I was doing and actually cared, unlike the girls that I rather rudely kicked out of the house with a very fake smile on my face. I was tired of people like them asking if there was _anything _they could do to help as they eyed my birds' nest of a hair style and too large sweatpants, or as they looked at my little sisters with thinly guised disdain. What I _wanted_ they couldn't help with. I _wanted_ my parents back, or at the very least the annoying legal work over, and those girls didn't have enough brain cells for that.

Apparently Uncle John was leaving as soon as the all the legal crap was finished to go track the thing that killed my parents and Mary. Some Godfather he was, but I was happy to see him go, seeing how I might stab him in his sleep for getting my parents killed. Even so Dean was staying, and I didn't know how I felt about that. He kept watching me, not in a creepy way, but in that way that he has when he knows you aren't telling him something. Which I was not, nor was I going to. If I told him I would have to tell everyone that this was my fault, and I could not do that. I would not. _Ever._

* * *

><p>A few days later and John was gone. Everything my parents had ever owned belonged to us girls now, nothing to the extended family that we didn't have, nothing except some money to Uncle John and the boys. Apparently my parents had been secretly rich, which made sense when I thought about it because we always had the best stuff, even if it wasn't flashy and we didn't live in a mansion. Even their stock shares went to us, and we had no idea what to do with it all. I felt like an Annie without her Daddy Warbucks. Money but no parents. Super depressing.<p>

Something I would never mention to any living being was that I had cried myself to sleep every night since the incident. My sisters knew of course, and Dean, but they were kind enough to keep quiet about it. Another thing that I would never mention was that Dean had held me as I cried a couple of times when I had gotten to loud. I even cried _while _I was asleep, how my tear ducts had not dried up yet was a mystery to me. And something that ticked me off to no end, hunting anything had been forbidden by John until we had gotten our heads back on straight, even though all I wanted to do at the moment was kill everything.

"Kate!" Dean yelled from the other side of my bedroom door, banging it with his fist.

That jerked me out of my trance-like state as I shot straight up in my bed, yanking my headphones off in the process.

"Dammit, what Dean!?" I shouted back as I untangled myself from the headphone chord and my sheets.

"Get out of that bed and get your ass in the shower!" He commanded. "No human being should smell like you do right now!"

"How can you smell me?" I growled as I opened the door and shoved past him, "I haven't been out of my room all day."

"I smelled you last night, when you weren't eating dinner." He retorted with a smirk as he followed me down the stairs.

"Shove off Dean." I hissed with a glare.

His smirk faded and he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Kate, I promised your parents and my dad that I would take care of you. Now stop arguing with me and get your ass in that shower!"

His tone of voice and the mention of my parents made me flinch. He was right though. Dean didn't say it but his silence spoke volumes, my parents wouldn't want me to act like this. They would want me to take care of myself, and Dean was trying to make sure I did that, even if it was one little shower at a time. I obediently went into the bathroom for my shower without a fight, but I did glare fiercely at him as I walked in. Just because I was in grief mode didn't mean that I was not Kadence Lockwood, Master of the "Hate Look".

As I showered, I mentally thanked Dean. It was a good place to cry in private, also it just felt good. The feeling reminded me of rinsing off after a hard hunt, cleansing and refreshing. Which was kind of what I was doing whenever I shut myself in my room, the obsessiveness was debatable. Researching - my specialty according to my mother and father - I had to admit that it was something I was especially good at, and that I enjoyed. Particularly when there was mythology involved, and according to this bastard that I was hunting in my head, there was. I had figured out that it was a demon, and that it liked it's made up rules.

What I didn't know was why it had targeted my parents instead of John, who was after it in the first place. But it was enough for me to hate its guts, and want it burning in the deepest pit of Hell. A smirk lifted the corners of my mouth crookedly as I stepped out of the shower, thinking of all the things that I would do to that bastard when I caught up with him. He was _not _going to get away from me once I caught his scent. My eyes involuntarily strayed from the fogged up mirror so I wouldn't see my almost protruding bones and sickly coloured skin. Slowly, I made up my mind to try eating better, because my mother would have beaten me six days to Sunday if she knew that I wasn't.

I didn't want to disappoint my parents, particularly because I felt guilty. That was probably the reason I had stopped eating or moving or living really, though I would never really know the whole story about that. Grief and depression do things to you, and I'd swear on three stacks of Bibles that they were a pair of demons that walked hand in hand with each other. _"Showers really wake you up sometimes..."_ I thought as I wrapped a towel around my body and began to blow-dry my hair. While doing so, I had to resist the urge to punch the mirror to avoid seeing the dark shadows under my eyes.

To my chagrin, there were tears rolling down my face again, but they were quickly being evaporated by the heat of the hair dryer, which left my skin feeling tight and uncomfortable. I tried singing to distract myself, but all that would come to me were the old classic rock songs I had grown up with, so I gave up on that and slammed the hair dryer down harder than necessary, then proceeded to pull my slightly damp hair back in my favorite elvish style braids. Before exiting the bathroom I tidied it up slightly and slipped my mother's bathrobe around my body.

As I walked out I heard Nikki and Kris laughing from inside the kitchen, Kris had her laptop out and they were watching something. I envied them; they could still laugh a little after what happened. Me on the other hand, I couldn't. _I wouldn't. _I didn't feel that it was fair for me to, after what had happened. I had taken our parents away and we were orphans yet again. Another smile, this one sad, crept its way onto my face as I walked past the kitchen doorway and up the stairs. To make up for what happened to them, I would do exactly what Dean did for Sammy. I'd protect them with my life. I'd be what they needed me to be.

"But first," I whispered as I stared at my face and bony structure in the full-length mirror on my wall. "Let's start with those circles under your eyes..."

* * *

><p>I knew John Winchester to be busy, forgetful, and uncaring of the welfare of his children, but when John Winchester says he's going to be home in a few days, he means exactly that. Unless something bad has happened, which was just what Dean and I were afraid of. We had agreed to keep our worries from Kris and Nikki after I had confronted Dean about John being gone longer that he had said. We didn't want to worry them any more than they already were. But they weren't stupid, Nikk was starting to hint around and Kristen would stare at us for short intervals with her piercing dark eyes. Both Nikk and Kris had been watching me carefully since I stopped hiding in my room and eating again so Kris' staring wasn't too odd, except that it was unnerving.<p>

The girls and I had started going to school again, so that had distracted us from Uncle John's absence for a few days, but once we go into routine again things had started to get tense. Dean became agitated and strained, going on and on under his breath. He _acted _like he was fine, but we had been doing our job for about eleven or twelve years, we could see through almost any emotional mask. He had even snapped at Nikki and I for asking him what was wrong. Once, when I asked to go to the store for some more make-up he made the comment, "If you didn't cake it on like a hooker you wouldn't have to go." Which I slapped him for, he knew that the circles under my eyes were dark enough to scare an adult, and the reason they were there.

The school nurse had told me that I needed to get more sleep after she bandaged a cut from a fight - my parents dying recently hadn't put a stop to the idiots looking for me to knock their teeth in - and in return I told her politely to go screw herself, that got me a detention that I wasn't going to. When I got home Dean took us to get ice cream because I won the fight, and that was something small to smile about, but as we sat there he said,

"I'm leaving; my dad's been gone to long..." Dean's vivid green eyes searched our faces.

Just when I had gotten used to him, he was leaving. Just when I realized that we needed him, he was leaving. Nikki's bottom lip wobbled as Kris stared in silence with red rimmed eyes and I glared at him, my light eyes brimming with tears.

"You can't leave Dean." I said, my voice sounding strangled.

"Kate's right Dean, we're still minors." Nikk stammered, clenching her hands together.

"We need you..." Kris managed to grind out through her teeth.

Dean sighed and rubbed his face with one hand.

"I knew you would react like this... Look, I've discussed this with your principal. You can come with me and do your work over e-mail like you used to with your parents." He said holding each pair of our eyes with his.

I almost choked. Dean was actually going to take us with him? _And _he convinced my principal - who always had a stick up his ass - to let us go and do our school through correspondence? Where had the Devil-may-care Dean Winchester gone over the years?

"You actually convinced him to let _us _do this?" I asked. "He's not too keen on us Dean."

"He actually seemed relived with my... _Offer_." Dean smirked.

Threats would get to the man, that's what he meant. The image almost made me smirk back at him, almost. Instead I just licked my ice cream and crossed my leather booted feet on the table, earning a glare from the staff present. Like I had cared, they wouldn't do anything about it as long as Dean was there. Then Dean slapped my legs in annoyance.

"I _know_ you have better manners than that, Kate." He growled with a raised brow.

I sighed and removed my legs as he began discussing the plan with us again. We were going to search for John as much as we could, but our time would be limited with our correspondence classes and there was only so much Dean could do by himself. Eventually, if need be, we would have to get Sam and force him to help us find John. I laughed, it was more of a scoff, when Dean told us that. Sam wasn't going to help John, even if Dean begged him. From what Nikk had told me, Sam and John had gotten into a huge argument before he ran off, so he probably wouldn't be too happy to see Dean on his doorstep asking him to help find Daddy.

Dean was prepared for that apparently, but he wouldn't say how. Nor would he meet my eyes when I had asked what his backup plan was, I was positive that Dean was going to guilt trip Sam with us girls. It didn't bug me all that much though, if we needed his help, then we needed his help, end of story. The means to get it didn't matter, and we could always tell him the truth after we were too far from his home to turn around. Also, I was an expert at tying things up, you know, for the just in cases. I really hoped that I wouldn't have to do that though, it would be kind of embarrassing for both Sam _and _I. Imagine being six foot whatever-he-was-now and being knocked out then tied up by a five-four little punk. Embarrassing.

We were leaving as soon as we could get all our valuables - that hadn't been ruined in the fire - into storage and most of our clothes packed, because there was a possibility we wouldn't be coming home for a while. That possibility saddened me, not because I was leaving behind any good friends or family, only because I had lived here almost my whole life. I would say goodbye to the friends I had and leave it at that, they were used to my sisters and I leaving for long periods of time, and we never had gotten that close so it wasn't a big deal for us. The house was almost completely repaired, and it seemed sad to leave it just as it was getting close to normal again, but we had to I guess.

John was our Godfather, and Dean's dad, so he was our responsibility. A sigh broke my quiet facade; it should be the other way around. The parent should be saving the butts of the reckless kids, and as a hunter, I had saved my parent's hides a few times. But that didn't excuse the fact that John was ridiculous in his methods, and his parenting. If I were Dean I would be happy to be rid of him, but I'm not Dean. I'm Kate, and Kate is pissed that she has to look for a man that has never lifted a finger to help her, also one that got her parents murdered by a yellow-eyed, crazy-ass demon with a fetish for hanging people on the ceiling and burning them. Although I'm not a "Good Little Soldier" I was obeying Dean for one reason and one reason only. If we found John, I could find a clue on the demon. And if I did, _I _would be the one to end it.

* * *

><p>Moving things took a few days longer than we figured it would, and it was completely inconvenient as well as frustrating. Then the packing, that was worse. It was incredibly vexing - possibly stemming from not wanting to leave - and tempers flared when one of us couldn't find one of our belongings. By the end of the day I ended up with several bruises, Nikk had a bloodied lip, Dean with bite marks - and not the good kind, and Kris nursed a black eye. Each of us were sporting glares that could curdle milk as we held ice packs and frozen peas to our battle marks. After a few minutes I began to giggle while I gazed at my family, we <em>looked<em> laughable. Seasoned hunters who had beat each other up over a few lost pairs of socks, and the guy who had gotten bitten when he tried to break them up.

Nikk's flashing eyes whipped over to me, sending me an angry look, but they quickly softened and she began to laugh as well. Then Kris started up uproariously with tears in her eyes. Dean looked at the three of us like we had lost out minds - which was arguable - before he joined us in our laughter. My lungs ached and my sides were splitting from the laughter, it wasn't even that funny but laughing felt so good, and Dean had started tickling Nikk for biting him. _That _was hilarious. Then, abruptly, Kris burst into tears and I rushed over to her as Nikk struggled to get away from Dean to help me.

"Kris," I coxed. "Kristen baby, what's wrong?"

Kris looked at me with her brimming, chocolate brown eyes and said,

"You're laughing… Really laughing… Nikki and Dean are having fun… I'm not sad, I'm happy cause we're gonna be okay."

My breath hitched and tears stung my eyes as I regarded my sweet little sister. Then I grabbed a fistful of her short, blue hair and buried my face in her neck to hide the fact that I was crying for the fiftieth time that week. The rest of the night ended in a huge group hug that I would have rather avoided, but I didn't fight it. I wanted to be as much of a family as we could now, and we would if I had any say in the matter.

* * *

><p>For three whole weeks we drove, searching for John Winchester, or any clues to his whereabouts. This was probably harder than looking for the man himself, as well as frustrating to each one of us, Dean and me especially. The girls just went along with Dean's hunches and I gloated when we were lead to a cold trail. That probably didn't help matters much, but it was funny to watch him get worked up. I particularly enjoyed it because Dean hadn't let us find a place to stay for the night, meaning we had to sleep in the Impala, which lead to a series of sleepless nights for me because sleeping in cars had been impossible since I was tiny. The nightmares that appeared every time I lost consciousness didn't help either. It was the same since the night my parents died, except every time I did something to try and save them, and despite my dream-self's efforts my parents still died each time.<p>

So I didn't sleep until I passed out from exhaustion, which, unbeknownst to me, worried my little makeshift family to no end. Most nights I sat up with Dean and listened to my iPod, or his music which wasn't bad, but it still reminded me of my parents. I also refused to talk about that night with him, no matter how much he pressed me. I was down with his whole "no chick flick moments" thing. I hated getting mushy and sappy. It wasn't in my nature. So he usually got fed up and pulled over to the nearest all-night gas station to get a drink and some snacks for me, and the girls if they were awake. This was what he was doing when he unexpectedly got a call from Uncle John. Dean had left his phone in the Impala and I had my headphones on, dozing, so I didn't hear it at first. At least until Kris hit me in the head with Nikk's shoe and told me to "answer the damn phone". When I saw that it was Dean's cell and the caller id, I jumped out of the Impala and raced into the gas station.

"DEAN," I gasped. "Dean, its Uncle John!"

He stared at me for a few seconds then dropped the bag of chips he was holding and ripped the cell phone out of my hand. He had answered it a second too late. It had gone to voicemail, and that was my fault. I should have answered the phone when I had the chance, cause John only calls once. That was pretty stupid if you asked me. I mean, if _I _was in danger – or some kind of trouble – I'd call more than once unless I had no other choice. I shook my head as Dean cursed and slammed his phone shut. Then I stared at the ground in silence and I could feel Dean's eyes on me, not saying a word. Just as I opened my mouth to apologize for not answering the phone, it buzzed again and Dean snapped it open. I heard the faint sound of the voicemail operator and looked Dean straight in the eyes. He cursed again and pressed the correct number, then pressed the pone back to his ear and motioned to me for silence, even though I was quieter than the grave.

Seconds later Dean was hurrying me back into the Impala and setting off down the road. I had no idea what was going on except for the fact that Dean was muttering something about a way to slow down the voicemail. That was when I involuntarily started to doze off against his shoulder. What seemed like a few moments later to my groggy mind, a spine-chilling female voice filled the Impala. I only heard it for a few moments before I was hurled into another nightmare, this one worse than all of the others. This time it wasn't just my parents burning on the ceiling, it was the rest of my family as well. Kris, Nikk, Dean, Sam, Uncle John… All of them, and I was powerless to stop it. Than damned Yellow-Eyed demon had me strapped to a chair, taunting me with their screams as he poured some foul tasting liquid down my throat - that burned my insides – as I screamed my lungs to shreds.

* * *

><p>"Kate," I heard someone call from far away. "Katy-girl, come on wake up Sammy can't fit in the backseat with your sisters."<p>

I felt a shake on my shoulder and jerked up with a curse. I blinked owlishly up at Dean's smirking face, wondering what the Hell was going on. Then Dean brushed a few unnoticed tears off of my cheeks and sighed, slipping his arms underneath me, and pulled me out of the car then set me on the Impala's hood. My breathing still came hard and shallow from my nightmare, making me slightly dizzy. I gripped the car tight with one hand and tried to rub my eyes with the other to dispel the frightening images that were lingering, but my exhausted body slumped forward and I saw the asphalt loom before my eyes. Before I hit the ground two unfamiliar, muscular arms caught me and pulled me close. I was confused again, where was Dean?

"Dean," the voice connected to the man that held me called. "Who is this? You've never taken a girlfriend with you before…"

My heavy eyes snapped open and the word "girlfriend" and I pushed myself back to set this guy straight, but when I looked up into his hazel eyes the words caught in my mouth. They were familiar and very pretty. I blinked and shoved away slightly, pressing myself up against the Impala, not to be seductive – God knows I'd fail at that – only to put some distance in between us. The closest I'd ever really gotten to a guy, besides Dean, was when I put one in a chokehold. Fortunately for me Dean sauntered over from the trunk and took the pretty-eyed guy's attention.

"Sam, this is Kate- I mean Kadence Lockwood. Remember her?" Dean said. "She's not my girlfriend."

I stared back up at the man in front of me. _This _was Sam Winchester? He was a good looking kid, which was one of the reasons I'd had a crush on him, but this was ridiculous. It should be illegal to look as sexy as the Winchester boys, but apparently genes didn't have laws. Sam's eyes met mine again; he looked more than a little shocked. A soft blush spread bled into my cheeks as he looked me over. I had changed more than a little since he last saw me, and his scrutiny was embarrassing. Especially since he took obvious notice of my still slightly protruding bones, ghostly pallor, and faintly disguised dark circles under my eyes.

"What's she doing here then Dean? I thought Ross and Dakota didn't want Kate hunting without them…" He said looking over at Dean again. "Or the girls…" Sam added as an afterthought when he looked into the dark backseat.

So Dean hadn't used us as a guilt trip, that made me smile slightly. But as quick as the smile came it disappeared, Dean was staring at me uncomfortably. I rolled my eyes and sighed, I would have to tell Sam about my parents.

"Sam, my parents are dead. They've been dead for more than a month."

The younger Winchester's eyes widened in shock at my proclamation.

"Th-that's why they're with you Dean? Why did Dad run off and leave you with them?" Sam asked his older brother angrily.

"Sammy…" Dean sighed. "It's complicated… Ya see… The thing that killed mom, it-" Dean shuddered at the memory, cutting himself off midsentence.

He had confided in me earlier this week that he hadn't fully seen my parents burning on the ceiling. He was focused on getting me out of there, which he though was better because then he couldn't imagine his mother in their place. Which had made me cry and give him an awkward hug.

"It murdered my parents." I finished for Dean, not a single emotion showing through my façade, even though I was screaming on the inside.

"Oh God Kate… I'm so sorry." Sam half whispered.

I waved him off and shook my head.

"It's okay Sam. I'm dealing with it." I murmured with a tiny smile. "It happens to come with the lifestyle."

Sam's eyes narrowed at me and he seemed to be about to say something but Dean cut him off to help me get into the backseat of the Impala, giving him a slightly heated glare.

"Kate…" Dean whispered to me as he helped me get situated.

"Hmm?" I answered, slipping my headphones around my neck.

"Try and get some sleep kid, you're scarin' me."

My eyes flicked up to meet Dean's – I thought he might have been joking – and they were dead serious with a glimmer of worry in them. I nodded my head without taking my eyes off his and smirked.

"Since you asked so nicely, I'll give it a shot." I said and placed my headphones over my ears, situating myself over my sleeping sisters for the long drive, and turned on my music just as Sammy slid into the front seat. I didn't miss the questioning look he gave Dean right before I closed my eyes and drifted into another fitful sleep.


End file.
